3 knocks on a wooden door that isn\'t there.
It’s the indication of my presence.
As I chain-smoked packs of tar every day, just to feel my heart beating.
It\'s difficult to take a breath but at least I know I am breathing.
An incantation spoken to the wards of the unseen.
Malicious to the eyes that dared to be kept shut.
In the presence of what we thought it\'s evil but it\'s not.
3 wooden steps on wooden floors swept and waxed for me to break my neck.
As I took my first baby steps to 90.05 FM.
Vows must be kept aside to the independent truth of a forbidden depth lined with a mist too vile to be spoken about with words and described with characters.
Only those who knew not to even squint can feel the essence of the translucent divine.
When you mess with the divine.
It sure messes with you.
And I was young and couldn\'t see my path in my backyard vast forest of 4 trees.
One for each major event that happened to me.
Next to the monument of our old victories;
The lightning strikes tore apart the Stonehenge built by my friends on a summer feast’s end.
Celebrating the loss of innocence.
Getting ready for the winter solstice.
As I decorate my body in Yule.
I was covered in honey dancing in fur and leather.
Of the bears I once lured to my cave.
A deal that has been made.
Drawn with both blood and spirit.
For I was never looked upon for my soul.
Breaking through a window of mine you messed with my candles. Told you it was the symbol of my divine.
Consequences you can\'t handle.
Cause when you mess with the divine it sure messes with you.
None of your words were true and none of your lies were safe from releasing the haunting hounds of my truth.
I knew that the scales of one\'s mind be speaking for its faith and the stones in one\'s chest be speaking for what his heart really chase.
and yet I was blind to the truth that lingered in your perfume of dirty socks and thoughts, a weak mindset and a narrow view.
But I got rid of you.
It was my victory that crafted my muse.
Cause when you mess with the divine.
It sure does mess with you.
I was ignorant.
Of how one can perform so well and yet craft a lame excuse.
To retire and get wet.
Get wet, get moldy and die.
And yet I hope my tries.
Can shield me from your next lies.